


100 Themes Challenge #7 - Night

by Yunimori



Series: 100 Themes Challenge [7]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: 100 Themes Challenge, Abusive Parents, Child Abuse, Drabble, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Medical Experimentation, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 06:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21175259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yunimori/pseuds/Yunimori
Summary: 100 Themes Writing Challenge.Please read tags for possible issues. 100 Themes Challenge drabbles may not have a proper summary.Backstory drabble.This was the first time he'd woken up enough to realize just how wrong things were. THis was no dream, or...or was it? If it was, it was a nightmare. If it wasn't, what could he do?





	100 Themes Challenge #7 - Night

**Author's Note:**

> I'm copying all of my Shockwave and Optimus/Shockwave ficlets and drabbles from my tumblr accounts over to my ao3 account. Most of these are going to be incredibly short (hence the drabble tag), and either in short-form format or 100 Themes Challenge format.
> 
> This is just for my own peace of mind, making sure they are safe from tumblr's random purges.
> 
> However, feel free to read them and let me know if you enjoyed them!

It was late when he woke. Shockwave knew that had to be the case, because the kind of darkness that permeated the room was not the kind of simply having the lights off. It was the deep, utter blackness of _no_ light outside, of late hours and silent streets.

He didn’t know what had woken him, either. Or…where he was. This was not his bed in his cell, he knew _that_ much; the surface he was laying on was too even, too hard and flat and lacking utterly in any kind of covering. Almost like one of the lab tables, except colder. 

The only problem with that was that it made no sense. He’d gone to sleep in his _cell_. He _remembered_ going to sleep in his cell, after texting Pax a quiet goodnight and a hope that he’d see him the next day, during work hours if nothing else, since his father was on the rampage again and was keeping Shockwave locked away when he wasn’t at work. He’d laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, the distance making his vision fuzzy, until he fell asleep. 

So…where was he now? How had he come here? He wasn’t known to sleepwalk, so what had happened…and why was it _so_ dark?

Shockwave started to get up, shifting his legs cautiously to make sure he wasn’t going to fall off of whatever he was laying on, but found that, while his legs could move, his upper body…couldn’t. Moving _period _caused enough pain to give him an instantaneous headache. That caused enough anxiety to wake him a little more, making his running lights flare to life and giving him a bit more light to see by, for all it was blue-tinted and not very effective. 

He was on a table. He could see _that,_ now. On a table, and bands were holding his wrists in place, as well as his waist. Strapped down like an electrotoad on a dissecting board. As if that wasn’t terrifying enough, the dim light from his running lights let Shockwave see just enough of the room he was in to think he _had_ to be in a waking nightmare. A saw was above him, suspended on hydraulics attached somewhere above his head, as was the familiar rod of a soldering iron. Glints from various pieces of equipment around the table didn’t give Shockwave much idea as to what they were, but he could see well enough without his glasses to take some not-so-wild guesses at some of the shadowy hulks. Medical equipment. Uncertain as to what kind, but with the saw and iron above his head, Shockwave didn’t think they had anything to do with keeping bots _alive._

He _was_ strapped to a dissecting board.  
  
Terrified, confused, and unable to move, Shockwave did the only thing he could think of. He screamed for help.  
  
“_Someone, anyone, can you hear me? Help!”_  
  
The lights in the room immediately snapped on, as if programmed to respond to his voice. Shockwave was left squinting, blinded by the brightness after having _just_ gotten used to the dark.  
  
Jhiaxus entered the room, his face hidden by a biohazard helmet and shield, and Shockwave could just barely see the dark frown on his father’s face. “Oh, Father, thank goodness, I– what…what are you doing?”  
  
Instead of helping him, Jhiaxus tightened the band around Shockwave’s waist, making his son flinch as the strap dug into the edge of one hip. “Father…?”  
  
Instead of answering him, Jhiaxus turned and _looked_ at Shockwave, and even through the shield, Shockwave could see a strange mix of _hate_ and irritation in his father’s gaze. It made him cringe back instinctively, and Jhiaxus apparently took that as his cue. He reached above Shockwave’s head, where he couldn’t see, and a soft click was heard. He then put his hand over SHockwave’s eyes, blocking his son’s vision and leaving Shockwave trying to struggle against his bonds, fear getting the best of him when his vision was cut off _entirely_. “Father, what are you _doing? _What is this place, help me!”

“Go back to sleep, Shockwave. You’re in bed.” 

Such soft words. Such utter disdain. No hint of sympathy or concern, just a flat, disgusted tone, as though Shockwave had…had done something wrong. Disappointed his father yet again, though he didn’t know how or why he _could_ have. 

The young Senator, not even to his majority yet, felt his own struggling grow weaker, though he was trying his hardest. The darkness behind Jhiaxus’ hand over his eyes grew darker, and Shockwave heard the sound of the saw above him turning on, the soft whine growing in intensity rapidly, as though it were being lowered toward him. Shockwave felt fear rise to his throat, choking him and making him desperate, making him use every ounce of strength he possessed to jerk at his bonds, trying to free himself. This had to be a nightmare. It _had_ to be.

He felt his hands come free of their bonds just as the heat put off by the near-silently-spinning sawblade made itself known against his chestplate. Without thinking, with his father’s hand still over his eyes, Shockwave scrambled for the band against his waist, ripping it away from him despite the pain, and surged up, jerking his head free of Jhiaxus’ hold. 

Nearly unseeing, Shockwave leaped for the floor, doing his best to ignore the rapidly-growing pressure in his skull and points of near-debilitating pain all over his body. Once his toes touched the ground, he _ran_.

He made it to the door before he passed out, crumpling to the floor with nary a sound, a puppet whose strings had been suddenly cut. 

Jhiaxus stared in disgust for a minute or two, quelling the irritation that threatened to overtake him, then moved to pick up his unconscious son and lay him back on the table. He’d use _chain_ as restraints this time. The boy couldn’t break _those…_and he’d up the dose of the sedative; it was a mistake to give Shockwave a small dose, that was his own fault. 

It was the next evening before Shockwave called Pax again, stars already starting to show themselves in the late autumn sky. He sounded terrible, looked even worse, as though illness had drained him of nearly all his life in less than a day. 

“Pax, I’m so sorry I fell off the face of Cybertron. Terrible nightmares last night, woke up late and achy and spent all day trying to play catchup at work. …can you still meet me at our bench for coffee? I missed you today. I don’t want to miss you tonight too.”


End file.
